Unfortunately, the sentiment “time heals all wounds” doesn’t really apply when it comes to grief. At least not for me, or my parents. Together, we live in a world that still contains my sister, while the rest of it seems to forget.
Therapy is like rummaging through the contents of your head, plucking things from their usual place and examining it in different lighting.
“It’s all of that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.”
At some stage, after Elizabeth’s death, I was given a three-page pamphlet on ‘How to Cope with the Loss of a Sibling’. I have no memory of who gave it to me or when, but I remember reading it one night when I couldn’t sleep.
I heard your voice in the wind today
and I turned to see your face;
The warmth of the wind caressed me
as I stood silently in place.
We can choose to meet death like a great opponent about to begin an epic sword fight. We grow in size by our ability to live life in its absolute fullness. We let no moment of beauty pass under our nose without sniffing it and hugging it and holding it close.
Having someone you love die feels like suddenly getting yanked by the collar of your shirt and being dragged at breakneck speed through the clouds and then gently being released into the atmosphere.
I bring it up for those out of you reading this who also find themselves in anguish or despair at this time of year. I just want those people to know that they aren’t alone in their suffering.
The memories associated with Thanksgiving overwhelm and engulf, forcing me somewhere I worked hard to get away from.
I will always remember those warm summer days on Grandma’s porch when you’d tickle us to tears.